


psychodelic

by zhengharem (nicrt)



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst and Romance, Band Fic, Bi Wenjun-centric, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27085444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicrt/pseuds/zhengharem
Summary: Even with the AC cranked up to max, Wenjun could feel himself sweating in places he didn't think could sweat. But his job demanded that he wear the outfit consisting 70% of black leather and to pose for what looked to be a better part of the day for a magazine photoshoot. Coupled with the multiple lighting equipment set up everywhere, emitting heat waves on par with the sun, it's safe to say that Wenjun will melt into a pool of mushy goo.Wenjun would also deny all allegations made (re: by You Zhangjing) about his gooey mush sweat status being 99% caused by the photographer directing their photoshoot at the moment.But also, yeah. Zhu Zhengting would do that to him.
Relationships: Bi Wenjun/Zhu Zhengting | Jung Jung, Cai Xukun/Wang Ziyi, Lin Yanjun/You Zhangjing, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18
Collections: Cloud 9 Fic Fest





	1. Troubled

**Author's Note:**

> It is 2am at the time of posting this and by GOD this is a beast to write. It's still a WIP but I hopefully have enough content to keep the curious reader sated but also hungry for more :D 
> 
> Special thanks to the Mods for making this fic fest a reality! W/o yall, I wouldn't have been able to write the band au of my dreams. And an even Extra Special thanks to the prompter! Thank you for sending this in, at the time when I wanted so badly to write a band au. Y'all just....rock, yknow? Ba dum tss ~
> 
> Prompt itself will be posted in the notes at the bottom of the first chapter! Enjoy your read! ^^
> 
> Edit: I'm such a big poo doo head. Like, a massive major big time one. 
> 
> SPECIAL LOVELY THANKS AND SHOUT OUT TO MY BETA, WHO'D SEEN THE FIC IN IT'S RAW FORM AND HELPED ME WORK OUT THE LITTLE THINGS INIT. I LOVE YOU MUACKS!!!!

**_splintered_ **

Sometimes.

Sometimes he felt lost.

Sometimes when he felt lost, he'd wander around his apartment. Looking for something to do. Laundry that's already been done. Playing his fifth playthrough of Zelda BOTW. Picking up one yoyo out of hundreds, deeming it best weighted for his current predicament, and then going through the motions of tricks he's learnt over the years.

Most times.

Most times he found himself. He's able to right himself up, to move on and along with life.

But then, there were times he found himself staring at the pair of drum sticks he's had framed. They're perched on the shelf in front of his bed, leaning on the wall. They were his first pair ever. Back in high school, when he'd first picked up drumming. The tips had been worn off and there were cracks in the wood. It's bad wood too - blended. He could feel the sting of old calluses on his fingers and palms from the number of times this particular set had given him a hard time during practice.

He wanted to burn them once. Then, for safety reasons, he wanted to just throw them out. Into the bin - out of sight, out of mind. Then, for dramatic reasons, he wanted to throw them out of the window; more specifically, out from his open balcony. Then he's back to deeming it unsafe and left to ponder about dumping it into the bin again.

He never did throw it out. Obviously. He didn't know why. Or rather. Maybe he knew why, but on nights like these when he felt lost, he didn't really want to think about it. It's easier to ignore the reason to keep it around.

Then he's back to feeling phantom pains in his hands again and the cycle repeats.

**_issues_ **

They're fucking making fucking bedroom eyes at each other again.

Wenjun didn't have to look away from his set up to know that they were. Neither did he have to look at his set up to know how to play their new song now. So when he did look up from his set up, he rolled his eyes up heavenwards, lolling his head back but suppressing the groan of exasperation to the back of his throat.

It was only rehearsals. They were only in the practice rooms. But goddamn it if Yanjun and Xukun couldn't keep their eyes off of each other. Still singing into the microphone, Xukun was looking over at their rhythm guitarist, sending him a smirk as he sang one of the more euphemistic lines. Yanjun in turn, may have nearly missed his queue to jump back into the song. He played it off smoothly though, transitioning into his parts with no problems; even managed to throw a smug look at Xukun, who rolled his eyes at him playfully.

But if Ziyi strummed his parts with a little more vigour than usual any longer though, he might have to replace his pick again. That was the seventh one he was using this week. The bassist in question was trying very hard not to let his temper show. Which was, in Wenjun's opinion, a shit attempt because Ziyi rarely - if ever - got angry. An angry Ziyi was a very telling Ziyi. And right now, all of his tells were putting on a show.

Zhangjing's eyes caught Wenjun's in the mirror reflection. Wenjun shot him a quick smile and Zhangjing gave him a weak one back. But then the guitarist's solo ended and Zhangjing morphed back into his singer's persona. The version of him where his love for singing outshone any other emotion. Zhangjing poured his heart out into the next few lyrics sung and Wenjun didn't think he was imagining the hurt and pain that managed to leak into it.

Jeezus guys, he wanted to say, it was only practice. If they were a train wreck in the making now, who knew what they were gonna be like during their tour.

He kept quiet though. Because Yanjun stared after Zhangjing as the other announced he was taking a quick water break. Because Xukun was stubbornly fixated on retuning his guitar again even as Ziyi said he'd go with him. Because Yanjun caught Wenjun watching it all play out in the mirror of the practice room, started to bristle before tightly asking, 'what?'

Wenjun shrugged.

"Nothing," he replied.

Nothing at all.

**_midnight_ **

"So are they all still being idiots?"

Wenjun snorted into his shot of soju. "Did you expect anything different?"

Yanchen hummed in agreement but he looked thoughtful. "I'm guessing you didn't say anything this time either."

Wenjun shrugged, mouth twisted into a grimace.

The grill and bar they've opted to meet at was well-known for their Korean BBQ. Hansol had started craving for home delicacies, Zeren had said. Not that he would admit it, Yanchen had added.

Speaking of which. Yanchen sighed, holding his shot glass and swirling his soju around like as if it was champagne or something. "You know you're being part of the problem, right?"

No.

...no?

"Right." Yanchen scoffed but his smile was kind, "You not saying anything to any of them is just going to prolong things, you know?"

Hansol was on his fifth shot of soju now, teetering away from the bar and landing on his seat with a heavy thud. Although, Wenjun was sure that the soju they ordered had a more of a fruity-like scent and didn't smell like disinfectant. He spied a flash of something amber in a bottle and smelled something like rum in the air. He cocked an eye at Zeren in question about it, who shrugged but watched Hansol with a keen eye.

"You should talk to them," Yanchen continued, "You know...try to get their asses out of their heads. Make them open up about their feelings more. That kind of shit thing. What are friends for, y'know."

Wenjun scoffed this time. The words, 'like you're any better' were on the tip of his tongue but he held it in.

Hansol said it instead.

"You're such a...hypocrite, Yanchen," he slurred, pouting as he did. "You won't even tell me how you feel. You and Zeren both! I'm the eldest, aren't I? I'm your friend, aren't I? You're supposed to rely on me..."

Yanchen sighed, wistful and sad. While Zeren patted Hansol on his back, even though it looked like all he wanted to do was hug him tight.

Right...talk, Wenjun thought, swallowing down another fruit-tasting shot. Maybe he'll have some of that rum. It'd go well with the taste of burnt meat and bitter guilt.

**_trouble_ **

[ENG TRANS] 200207 MANIFEST RADIO INTERVIEW

**DAY TEN MEETS MANIFEST FOR A SPECIAL ON AIR INTERVIEW!**

[...]

XINGJIE 🌟: Live on J.zone with the one and only J.zen, we have with us tonight some very special and beloved guests. Everyone, please! Give your best greetings!

ALL: Hello J.zone listeners, we're Day Ten!

ZHANGJING 🎤: Hello everyone, it's your favourite grapefruit, You Zhangjing.

XUKUN 🥦: Hello, this is Cai Xukun of Day Ten.

ZIYI 😎: Wassup J.zone, it's your BOOGIE man, Wang Ziyi!

YANJUN 🍞: Hullo J.zone, this your handsome Lin Yanjun speaking.

WENJUN 🦈: Hello, my name's Bi Wenjun.

ALL: [Cheers]

🌟: Congratulations to Day Ten for their recent sixth anniversary! Wow, it's already been six years huh?

🥦: Yes, it's been a long time since we first made our debut. A lot has changed since then.

🌟: Yeah! When you first appeared on here you were a three-member band.

🥦: When we first started out yeah, it was just Ziyi, Wenjun, and myself. And now we have Zhangjing and Yanjun with us, I feel very thankful to have them all as my bandmates.

🎤: I'm also very thankful for joining this group. The members are all very hardworking and we each inspire each other to do our best.

🌟: When Day Ten first came to the station, you were all so nervous that you talked all stiff! [ALL: laugh] How are things as a band now?

😎: It's true that when Day Ten debuted, the three of us were so nervous that we looked too serious. Now, I think with the different experiences and expectations, things are much more relaxed now.

🍞: For me and 🎤, it definitely helped that the other three were more experienced with the industry. They helped make things more comfortable and easy for us.

🥦: 🍞 and 🎤 also made things more lively for the rest of us. It's much louder and funnier now, since we have two clowns with us.

🌟: Everyone please understand that the silence right now is because 🎤 is glaring at 🥦. I think Day Ten might become a four-man band soon.

ALL: [laugh]

🌟: Since it's the sixth anniversary, has the band prepared anything special for their fans?

🎤: We've prepared a special album for our fans but I think we can also say, we've prepared it for ourselves. Because I think, this is an album prepared with our hearts.

🥦: Yes, our new album has six new songs with the title track named [TROUBLED]. It's a song that tackles with the many issues we've all had to face these past few years but also how we've kept ourselves grounded through it all. J.zone listeners, please listen to it well.

🍞: It's a song that I think is especially different from previous songs. It's [...] personal, almost. It's a way we get to share our struggles with our fans but also as a way to say thank you to them as well.

😎: Each member had participated in the song's production in many ways. In fact, each song on the album had been worked on by a different member even.

🥦: You can say that each of us had made a song to call our own.

🌟: Oh, each member? Then Wenjun, you have a song of your own then?

🦈: I guess you can say that.

🍞: Wenjun took part the most in the last song, [PHOTOCARD].

🦈: I only mostly wrote the lyrics.

🎤: You also did the melody and arrangements.

🥦: 🦈 prepared this song very well.

😎: Yes, it's from his heart I think.

🐰: [cackle] J.zone listeners, I apologise for not making this a live viewing radio; 🦈's ears are very red now.

🦈: ZHU XINGJIE-GE!

**_secrets_ **

**** "I think I like your song the best, Wenjun," Justin smiled up at him from over his glass.

"Thanks," he said, "don't tell the others that though."

Justin flashed him another grin; Wenjun didn't understand how such an innocent expression could look mischievous. Then again, this was Justin he was speaking too. "I won't tell!"

Wenjun grunted in thanks. He wasn't exactly hungry at then moment. So, maybe he was dipping his dumpling in the sauce for too long. Maybe he was just a little bothered by the interview with _nexgram_ they just wrapped up. Maybe he was questioning his past decision to make friends with one Huang Minghao. 

"Seriously though. Who knew, Bi Wenjun, drummer of the sensational Day Ten, who’s number one on local and international music charts, would actually write a-"

"Justin," Wenjun grinned at him. Gritted teeth and all.

Justin laughed at the vague threat on his life. "Okay, okay; I'll drop it. But...seriously. Of all the people I expected, I would have thought...y'know," he tilted his head in the direction of others. "It'd be them."

Wenjun sighed, turning his head around to try to find his members.

Zhangjing and Xukun were by the salad bar, arguing playfully over whether or not Xukun should be getting more vegetables for his plate. Zhangjing on the other hand, was being called out for having too much meat on his. Ziyi and Yanjun meanwhile were waiting for their drinks at the bar. They were talking quietly, heads down but elbows touching. Wenjun thought he could see small smiles on their faces though.

"Things are good." Wenjun declared, turning back to face Justin. At his disbelieving expression, Wenjun sighed. "Things are...at ease. At least."

"For now," Justin said.

Wenjun grimaced. "I hate talking about it. Like...like it's some kind of dirty laundry I need to air or something. It's their secrets to share. Not mine."

"Luckily for you, I'm just a magazine editor then. Not some tabloid reporter fishing for gossip." Justin said, swirling a piece of meat in the hotpot to cook. "But I'm also their friend. I'm _your_ friend, Wenjun."

"Yeah," Wenjun said, "Yanchen and Zeren said the same thing."

Most of the time, Justin was too perceptive for his own good. It's what made him a good journalist, when he first started out. But other times, like now, all it took was one word for him to be distracted. There was a gleam in his eyes, having smelled new information first-hand, like a shark in the water. He raised an eyebrow and stopped munching on the meat at the end of his chopsticks.

"Yanchen and Zeren? What happened? What did Hansol do now?"

Sometimes, Wenjun wished it were that easy to share his troubles the way he sacrificed his friends' own.

**_champagne_ **

Their tour was divided into four legs this time: Europe, America, Oceania, and Asia. Their longest run yet. Spanned over the year, even. Wenjun wasn't sure if the band could hold themselves together for that long. They were already falling apart at the seams.

Case in point: You Zhangjing.

"Don't you have a different emotional support band member to rely on?" Wenjun deadpanned.

He knew without looking that Zhangjing was glaring daggers at him. "Unfortunately," Zhangjing said, "he's currently preoccupied with things."

"What things?"

"The reason we're each other's emotional support band members in the first place," Wenjun heard the eye-roll in his statement and chuckled.

For someone with a ferocious and insatiable appetite, Zhangjing happened to have a very picky taste in caffeine. So Wenjun stayed focused on the task at hand, making sure that the ceylon was steeped to the right amount of thinness that Zhangjing liked.

"Cream or sugar?" Wenjun asked as he took the tea bag out of the cup and dumped it into an empty container.

"I'm on a diet, Wenjun."

"So?"

"...do you have sweeteners instead?"

They were lounging on the balcony that had a view of the city's skyline. The night sky itself was dark though - just clouds and no moon - and possibly close enough to touch.

"Is this the air tall people breathe?" Zhangjing joked, settling into the rattan patio chair with a pillow and his tea.

Wenjun rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "I wouldn't know, it's the only kind of air I breathe."

They took turns making faces and poking fun at each other; wrapped up in their hoodies, sweatpants, and a blanket each. The cold air was still today. No blistering wind to scare them into the warmth of the apartment. Eventually, silence enveloped them instead - the nightlife of the city feeling so far away.

"Ziyi's with Xukun right now."

"Uh huh."

"Said something about revising some lyrics or something," Zhangjing shrugged. "Who knows where Yanjun is."

The statement sounded flippant enough. Wenjun knew better.

"What?"

"What what?"

"I dunno, you're the one pouting about something."

"I'm not pouting." Indignant, little-

"Alright, let me rephrase: you're the one sad about something."

More silence - taut like a tension wire.

"Do you think Yanjun and Xukun are serious?"

Wenjun would've liked to snort. Or scoff. Maybe give him a roll of his eyes. But sad Zhangjing hours meant he couldn't afford to be his usual snarky self. Or his usual quiet and contemplative self.

Matters like these were best (easiest) discussed with friends you haven't seen in forever. Who were more distracted by their own rising careers and roads to higher callings. Who could lend an ear but give no proper solution. Solutions meant getting involved. And getting involved meant being open to other's woes. It meant closing himself off from his own.

Case in point: Bi Wenjun.

And because he was Bi Wenjun, he gave an honest answer.

"No." Wenjun decided. "No, I don't think they're serious."

Zhangjing sniffed at that. "Thanks, Wenjun."

"Anytime."

**_scratch_ **

No one asked, but Wenjun didn't take to drumming in the beginning. He didn't want to pick up the drums. His passions and responsibilities had laid elsewhere: perfecting yoyo tricks, polishing badminton skills, practicing hard for the competitions built around them, becoming a part of the student council, and then leading said student council. And on top of all that, keeping his grades up to standard.

He'd only done it because Xinchun had asked him to. Looking up at him with that Look - the slight pout, a type of mirthful plea in his eyes. It worked most times; like when Xinchun convinced him to skip out on school to watch a movie premiere together. Or when he wanted to get his ears pierced, was scared to do it alone, so Wenjun got his pierced too. Or like that time when Xinchun won two tickets to his favourite band's concert states away from where they lived and Xinchun still managed to drag his ass across the country just for one night.

So when Xinchun's shoulders dropped, eyes downcast, and voice small as he said, "No, I'm sorry...you don't have to do it..." Wenjun had sighed and said, "Fine..." to his request on forming a band together.

But...

It goes like this:

Xinchun had a classmate who played the guitar and he was the one who wanted to form a band. Xinchun was too excited to say no because he loved bands and the kind of music they made. Wenjun had just been the easy target to make them a proper trio.

Xinchun picked up the bass guitar with a smile; Wenjun was pointed at the drum set because the other person was already a guitarist. 'Having someone play percussion would make them sound whole', Wenjun was told.

Xinchun learned the guitar well, helped patiently by the other guy because he'd been told they were very brand new to this. Meanwhile, Wenjun struggled alone in learning how to play drums.

It was three months into this agreement they had when the other guy - Cai Xukun - blew out a frustrated sigh and not too subtly glared at Wenjun.

"What?"

"Your playing is what."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's..." Xukun struggled with his words here. Then he seemed determined, like he was steeling himself to tell Wenjun, "It lacks passion. If you don't want to be here, maybe you shouldn't be."

So.

Wenjun left.


	2. Upended

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a chapter update that was a long time coming TwT
> 
> this had been finished for the longest time but i was so afraid that it didn't live up to any readers expectations
> 
> so a special thank you to the very beloved and dear ares, who read through the chapter and then sent a wall of text afterwards TwT you have no idea how happy it made me knowing you enjoyed this chapter
> 
> a special thank you as well to the dear beta who looked over the chapter for the technicalities and mistakes in this chapter! i hope youre doing well 
> 
> and for anyone who reads this fic, thank you for waiting and for reading and for i hope enjoying the fic too!

**_lovely, lonely_ **

There were signs of a gentle storm rumbling outside his walls, thunder and lightning a concert in the distance. Droplets of rain running down his windows casted a show of light and shadows across his apartment. He had Yanjun's choice of moodier songs playing in the background on low, a playlist cobbled together and shared with him one night. Dark. Because when he got back from practice, he hadn't bothered to switch the lights on. The ambiance of the night reflected his own mood; somber, fragile, but quiet. 

Ever since he fell backwards onto the bed, legs dangling off the edge, he'd only been staring at the ceiling. He'd been doing that often recently. Every night, his mind alternated between flying blind through a fog, unable to settle down; or swimming through an abyss, buoyant in emptiness. Wenjun's left reeling from the chaos in his mind long enough for him to memorise every inch of his ceiling. He might take up on Xinchun's suggestion to paste glow-in-the-dark star stickers up there. The ceiling was looking a little too bare for his liking.

His phone chirped in his hand. A text message. 

Could be Zhangjing, asking him out for dinner. Could be Ziyi, wondering if he was up for a late night to shoot some hoops. Could be Yanjun, another playlist of songs at the ready to be shared. Could be Xukun, still in the studio working on perfecting another chord, asking him to come back so they could jam together.

It was Chengcheng. Justin's partner in crime.

The message was hidden in the notifications; Wenjun found that he'd rather not instantly read any messages that were sent to him a long time ago. If it were important, they'd call. But something about Chengcheng's text - his name staring down at Wenjun, long enough to disappear into the blackness of his screen - that gave Wenjun a sense of foreboding. The crew from _nexgram_ had always been the kindest of journalists his band had the pleasure of working with. But they were also the hungriest of reporters; they knew what they were looking for. They knew how to look for it. All they needed was a start.

There were very few people whom Wenjun trusted the truth of his heart to.

The decision to unlock his phone, tap on the messaging chat, and look at the message took about a minute to come to. It felt like a whole hour to Wenjun. It felt even longer as he stared at the message in question.

**The Dogfather  
** _This your lover boy? [_ _Link _ _]  
_ 03:17 AM _-_ Seen

Wenjun paused. He didn't know what he'd be walking into if he clicked on the link. He had a feeling on what it'd be about; hence the heaviness in the pit of his stomach. It's the after that he's scared of.

His phone blanked out again. He gazed into the reflection on his screen. Looked for something on his mirrored face. Anything that would make him brave.

In the end, he left Chengcheng on read. Tossed his phone to the side, curled up onto the other, and closed his eyes.

The storm rolled on by, the music white noise in his ears, and fell asleep.

  
  
  


**_new order_ **

Wenjun was alone in the studio when the door slammed open and angry strides stopped short at the sight of the drummer.

"Umm...sorry," Yanjun shuffled backward a little, "I'll just...go-"

"It's fine," Wenjun said, closing his notebook. "Couldn't get anything good written anyways."

A frown marred the handsome man's features. "You sure?"

"You probably need the room more than I do anyways," Wenjun stood up, grabbing his phone and notebook as he did.

Yanjun's sudden "no!" made him pause.

Yanjun seemed embarrassed. The tips of his ears reddened, his grimace becoming more pronounced the longer the awkward air hung, and his hands clenched uselessly at his sides.

So Wenjun threw him a bone, "Help me work on some lyrics then?"

The night dwindled along after and Yanjun had gradually calmed down with it. Of the five of them, Wenjun was the newest in making his own songs. Yanjun had dabbled in composing and songwriting before - "He's always asking me to look over his materials; what am I, his singing tutor?" Zhangjing once complained fondly - so there was progress in the one song Wenjun had been trying to squeeze out of his head.

"Wow," Yanjun commented once they'd gotten a good number of verses done.

"Wow, what?"

"Are you always this stiff? I mean," Yanjun raised an eyebrow at him, "I always knew you were so..."

"So....?"

"Methodical?" He leaned back in the other chair, the plush leather squeaking, "Systematical? I dunno how to explain it without pissing you off."

Maybe if Wenjun were a little more youthful and a little less jaded, he would have scoffed. Now he just rolled his eyes; he's heard worse about himself.

"Yeah, I've been told. I don't know. It's kinda-," Wenjun scratched his chin, suddenly thoughtful. "I work better when I've got a timeline or a plan or something to work with. Kinda."

"You said 'kinda' twice." Yanjun chuckled. "But yeah, you're like...a robot."

Wenjun made an attempt to jab the other in his sides, causing him to roll away to safety, laughing out loud as he did. 

'At least one of us is feeling better now,' Wenjun thought, watching Yanjun roll the chair back to his side, still chortling.

"I've got a question then."

"Shoot."

"Why'd you pick up music if it wasn't your thing? No offense, but it's like...like you don't want to be here."

Ahhh, Yanjun. Simple and straightforward Yanjun.

"Did Kun tell you that?"

The words 'while you were fucking each other' stayed locked in his heart. It sounded too accusatory to be said.

"Nah. You're not the only one who observes people Bi," Yanjun twirled his chair around, his long legs kicking slightly. "You've never tried songwriting before. Not until- wait, was it last summer?" At Wenjun's grunt of confirmation, Yanjun continued, "So...what changed?"

Wenjun leaned back in his own chair, the backrest creaking and falling back with ease. They might have to get new ones if these fall apart. "You tell me."

The twirling stopped. Wenjun rolled his head to the side to give Yanjun a pointed look, who mirrored his lolling head. "I don't know what you mean."

Wenjun hummed. A voice echoed in his head and it suspiciously sounded like Yanchen.

He should say something. Should probably wake the sleeping elephant in the room.

_Are you and Kun fucking?_

"Wanna go out for some snacks?"

He didn't.

  
  
  


**_make, wish_ **

**[ENG TRANS] 200315 ONER CHARTS MUSIC REVIEW**

**_TROUBLED -_** _A Tale of Ups, Downs, Rights, and Wrongs_

_by Mu Ziyang_

_There's something to be said about the forces working behind the_ Day Ten _name. That they live up to it and are indeed forces to be reckoned with._

_Years ago, the band came onto the scene as a small-time but intriguing addition to the music world. With only three members on their roster then, their first Single release_ RUST & DUST _generated an amount of attention that's nothing to sneeze at. Four singles, two mini-albums, and another EP album were released during the year that followed, still holding the same amount of interest they had garnered at the start of their career. It wasn't until the addition of two other members and the release of their first full-length album_ ANGEL EYE _that they were launched into stardom that's much deserved. They've charted a total of nine times on ONER's very own The Best of Charts at a consistent number 3, and have even made themselves a place on Billboard's Hot 100 five times._

_Fast forward, now they're celebrating their sixth year anniversary by dropping another masterpiece:_ TROUBLED.

_A mini-album that has been proclaimed as_ 'a look into their lives' _,_ TROUBLED _has taken on a sound that's unique in its own right. Their title track of the same name features the band's delicate lyrics being sung by both_ You Zhangjing _'s stable and powerful vocals, and_ Cai Xukun's _subtle but smooth ones; carrying the melancholic tune gracefully. Adding to their favoured heavy guitar riffs and playing by members_ Wang Ziyi _and_ Lin Yanjun _, is the distinct powerful drumming by member_ Bi Wenjun. _The convergence of something as powerful as the track itself and the fragility of their words sends out a statement of just how human these musicians are._

_The album itself has been a journey in the making. From the hearts and heads colliding in_ UPENDED _to burning and building bridges in_ GROUNDED, _there is a lot to unpack in the six songs that has the band baring their souls out for the whole world to see. Fans are also excited to listen to the band's very first love song -_ PHOTOCARD - _ending off the raw album with something that's both light in tone but weighted in feeling. The duality that's become a running theme in this one album has taken the world by storm. Both new and old fans alike have expressed high praises for the cleverness in their songs._

_With_ Day Ten _slated to have a world tour during the next year, spanning across four continents and with tickets selling out in the first two minutes, the five-manned band only have up to go from here._

**Album Rating** \- ★★★★☆

  
  
  


**_touch sky_ **

It wasn't the first time he's caught their resident producer and choreographer being intimate. In fact, Wenjun's pretty much immune to it by now. He could walk into the room and unblinkingly judge them for having one or the other's hands down each other's pants. It's probably rude and problematic. But he's known them for long enough that it just...really didn't matter anymore.

Xikan was the one who screamed (he's always the screamer), ripping himself away from his better half. Xinchun's reaction was always more subdued, but no less embarrassed. He chuckled, waving awkwardly as Wenjun walked into their studio. "Hey Wenjun."

"Couldn't you have knocked first?!" Xikan screeched, blushing furiously.

Wenjun placed the plastic bags of food and goodies down on the coffee table, turning around to raise an eyebrow at him. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

The blush intensified.

Xinchun chuckled again, grabbing one of the containers inside the bags, "Thanks for the food."

When he's done freaking out (which was ridiculous; Wenjun really _had_ seen it all before _and_ it was vice versa), Xikan joined them in their consumption of good food. They're from the restaurant opposite of Wenjun's building and he recalled Xinchun once saying that he'd been craving Northern. The box of dumplings had been popped open and Xikan was now cooing at the other to open up his mouth so he could feed him one.

It should be disgusting - the way they're so in love with one another still, after all these years. But all Wenjun felt was a fondness for the pair. Maybe he was only disgusted by constipated love, like a certain group of people he knew. But for Xikan and Xinchun, it was effortless. They complement one another, working in tandem in spite of the differences that may crop up from time to time.

"Alright. Spill." Xinchun said, finished with clearing out their leftovers. "And don't try to skimp on the details," as Wenjun opened his mouth to reply, "I know you, I haven't been your best friend for all these years for nothing and not know when you need to open up about something."

"You offering?" slipped out of Wenjun's mouth.

Xikan reddened at the ears while Xinchun fixed him an unimpressed stare. "I have blackmail material and I'm not afraid to use it, Bi Wenjun."

"Kinky," he said, to which Xikan proceeded to smack him on the arm repeatedly.

Smack. "Stop deflecting!" Smack. "Start talking!" Smack. Smack. "And stop being so!" Smack smack smack!

He's no stranger to Xikan's strength but it hurt all the same. Especially since he came right after practice, arms still sore from drumming for the better part of the day. Rubbing the extra sore spot on his arm now, Wenjun contemplated his options. On the one hand, he's already spoken about this to a handful of people already. On the other, he hasn't had input from his bestfriend and his significant other yet. Wenjun remembered a time when it was just him and Xinchun, dragging their feet through the ups and downs of boyhood, before discovering the intricacies of a social life during their teendom. Wenjun's social circle has broadened since then. And - maybe - so had his inner circle of people he cared about.

Which brought him to the matter at hand.

"Do you honestly think it's a good idea to- I don't know, tell other people about this?" Xikan frowned. "I mean I know we're all friends and all but...the boys don't see them as much as you do, right?"

Wenjun poked at his now cold noodles. "About band troubles? I've only told Yanchen and Zeren. Maybe Hansol, but he didn't really count." A pause. "Justin."

"Leave it to you to spill about an open secret to one of the most notorious meddling person in existence," Xikan said, scratching his chin. "But that's still one too many, me thinks."

"I never go into details. I'm not that much of an asshole," Wenjun explained, swirling the noodles with his chopsticks. "Which is probably why I'm turning to you guys, for help."

"Just because we're your resident go-to gays doesn't mean we hold all the answers to everyone's love problems," Xinchun said dryly. "And since there are no details, we still can't help you there."

Wenjun knew this. He's never mentioned to anyone about how bad things are like in the band. With Yanchen and Zeren, he'd only mentioned that the lack of communication among everyone was stretching them thin. For Justin, he'd only said that things may look fine, but they were all still struggling with their current dynamics. No details. Nothing about the lovelorn glances Zhangjing and Yanjun throw at each other, only to pull back and snarl when one of them pushed too hard. Nothing about the resolute obliviousness Xukun and Ziyi seemed determined to perfect, pretending that their relationship never breached beyond more than just brohood. It's in the details, the little things, that Wenjun picked up on and was made aware of the trainwreck their band was becoming.

It's why he's taking a leaf out of their pages and doing his best to ignore the runaway train that was burning. Even still...

"I guess I'm only looking for a soundboard," Wenjun sighed. "I've essentially been tasked as each of their emotional support buddy."

The winces he received were glaring.

"Yikes..." Xinchun sighed as Xikan nodded, eyes wide with disbelief. "I can't even begin to imagine how that's going to end."

"In a ball of blazing glory. Maybe," Wenjun shrugged.

Xinchun squinted. Oh. Squinty Xinchun meant he caught onto something.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

The other threw the balled up receipt at him and Wenjun barely flinched, the offending thing rolling off of him harmlessly as soon as it hit him.

"I mean, what about _you_ , Wenjun?" Xinchun stared at him in the eye. Wenjun felt a tinge of nostalgia mixing with a kind of saudade as he met his gaze head on - God, he's missed his best friend.

A shrug. Distracted by their stare off, he yelped when Xikan managed to sneak a poke at his side. Sharp and precise fingers, just as he remembered.

"What he means, Wenjun," Xikan looked at him with a kind of fondness that once twisted Wenjun's insides into knots, "If you're running around trying to help everyone with their issues, even if you're basically a headless chicken right now," a smile when Wenjun gave him an affronted look, "What about you? What about _your_ problems?"

Xinchun placed a hand on his knee. "Who's taking care of _you_?"

An empty house. His bandmates at the front of the stage. His notebook of lyrics - stilted, half of them cross out. His best friend and his boyfriend seated before him. The flash of a camera going off. A smile, eyes sparkling, but sombre and sad. The framed drumsticks still on the shelf. A photobook tucked away.

Wenjun could feel his mind itch. The inkling of a rhythm, the beat changed every so often. The words, on the tip of his tongue.

So he straightened and stood up; followed the song in his head, latching onto it. Rare, so rare.

"I'm working on it," he said as he reached for the midi keyboard.

They don't ask him any more questions that night.

  
  
  


**_stone_ **

When Xikan had begged him to join (rejoin?) the band and play as a drummer, he'd wanted to flat out refuse.

"Please? Our drummer cancelled on us last minute and we really need someone who can play and Xinchun said you played! And I know for a fact that you're really, like really really, good at picking up on things quick! And! And, I know Xinchun said you were super busy too but...please...this is really...really important..."

Years later, Xikan would be appalled to know that his small 'to me...' hadn't gone unheard.

With the way things turned out in present time meant he hadn't refused him, obviously. Wenjun's proud to say he resisted for at least a good ten minutes before he caved. He'll blame it on the way Xikan's eyes seemed to sparkle, on the way his sad frown made him pout just a little, on the fact that Wenjun may be a bit weak to the cute and adorable kind. He'll never admit this part out loud and you'll find yourself buried six feet under if you ever find out.

But what did him in, in the end, had been the light in Xikan's eyes dimming, shoulders slumping in resignation, and his quiet 'I understand'.

In hindsight; he should have known he had a type.

Wenjun digressed. The point wasn't that he was whipped enough to have started playing the drums (again) over a(nother) pretty face. The point was that he sucked at it. Drumming, he meant.

Like he said; he didn't take to it. Xikan can sing praises all he wanted, but Wenjun knew that his heart wasn't in it. It's the worst feeling and it sucks extra because he wasn't a genius at it - let alone a prodigy. When he first picked up that one pair of drum sticks - the same pair that sat on his shelf in a frame, taunting him to throw them out the window - they felt like strangers in his hands. Too long and heavy to fit right on his palm. Too smooth for his fingers to grip right, plastic rubbing against calluses.

He hated it. Hated having to spend time on a promise that was half-heartedly given. Hated the sound of him missing beats and playing bad rhythms. Hated the deadline dangling at the back of his mind as he struggled through one more day - one more hour - one more minute - of practice.

Xinchun found him in the music room right at the exact moment he threw his sticks across the room. There was no shout. No scream. No growl. Wenjun wasn't the kind of person who did that. Maybe there was a loud frustrated exhale released but that was it. Even then, it was rare of Wenjun to express his frustrations.

Xinchun was a good friend. He walked over to Wenjun first, dropping his bookbag onto the floor, and then crouched beside him. Stared at him, right in the eye. They stayed like that for some time. Could have been a minute, could have been an hour. It's long enough for Wenjun to memorise the beauty marks on Xinchun's face, take note of the dark circles under his long eyelashes, trace the curves of his lips, all over again.

"You could have said no," Xinchun's eyes were kind as he said it.

He could have. Pretty face begging for help or the end of the world in sight, Wenjun knew he could have said no.

"I know," he sighed, "I don't know. I... I don't know."

Xinchun's lips tugged into a half-smile. "You said that twice," he said, standing up so he could walk over and pick up the thorns in Wenjun's palms. "C'mon, let's take a break. Show me those cool new tricks you learnt."

By the time the hour for his booked session ended, Wenjun had felt so much better. He'd made Xinchun laugh over a few failed yoyo tricks, which in turn made him laugh because his best friend laughing was one of his favourite sounds in the world. He missed this. This, as in, the effortless things. His fingers didn't sting as much anymore, the evening sunlight didn't burn against his retinas as it gave way to night, the sticks in his bag that he'd come to hate were nothing more than just a pair of sticks. The yoyo felt light in his palm, warm in the same way his heart felt when he watched Xinchun fumble over his own for the nth time that evening.

When Xinchun finally finished the trick - no help, no redo, all on his own - Wenjun let out a cheer.

"Eyy," Wenjun said, genuinely smiling, "You got it!"

Xinchun huffed out a laugh, the tips of his ears red. "All thanks to you."

Wenjun shook his head. "Nah. All I did was goad you on." He changed his smile into a playful smirk at that, to which Xinchun shoved him for. "Seriously. You did it all on your own."

The mood was still light, still friendly, even when Xinchun's expression fell ever so slightly.

They were friends, the best of. Wenjun knew most - if not, all - of Xinchun's tells. So he waited, patient as ever.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Dragging you into," he gestured around them, at the drum set behind Wenjun, "all of this. All those months ago."

Wenjun thought it might have been bile trying to crawl up his throat. He swallowed it down. "It's not-"

"It is. My fault, I mean. You were struggling. Still are. If I had been there for you-" He cut himself off there, pursing his lips. "I'm sorry for not being there for you."

Things between them had always been effortless. It's one of the reasons why Wenjun pined for Xinchun for so long. There was no denying that Wenjun had struggled alone, felt like he was suffocating under trying to be the best he could be for Xinchun. There was also no denying the fact that Xinchun _had_ left him all alone. He recalled the day after he'd stormed out of the practice room: Xinchun, coming over to his class during first period with a paper bag of his favourite sweets before he rushed off to his own class. A silent apology. And Wenjun had been alright with just leaving it at that.

Still, something warm filled his heart, hearing what Xinchun had said.

Wenjun held out a fist, "Forgiven, then."

And like that, they're okay once more. Xinchun grinned up at Wenjun, eyes suspiciously glazed over and wet at the corners. He held out his own fist, then bumped it with Wenjun's. Effortless. Easy.

It'd been nice. Just...being himself. Doing the things that he loved. Doing it together with Xinchun, who was smiling up at him. A fondness in his eyes, the kind Wenjun adored. For a moment, just a moment, Wenjun thought that, maybe? Maybe he didn't have to be worried about drumming anymore. He's got his bestfriend to back him up, so whatever, right? It's not a feeling that put him on top of the world; rather, Wenjun just thought that perhaps, he didn't have to do it for just another pretty face anymore.

Then the door slammed open, and it felt like hell warmed all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #320: band!au where wenjun is the drummer and he sees everything that's really happening in the stage. zhangjing and yanjun's push and pull, ziyi and xukun pretending that they don't have feelings for each other and zhengting, that boy who always cheers for him despite the fact that the drummer is always at the very back of every show.


End file.
